


For I Will Fear No Evil

by Sinderella (Rainia_Nytewolf1)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Miscarriage (Mentioned), Multi, Non Wrestling AU, Past Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainia_Nytewolf1/pseuds/Sinderella
Summary: After Shawn rescues Hunter from a demon, they team up to begin hunting the supernatural. Along the way, they meet other hunters and find themselves inexorably drawn to one another.
Relationships: Chris Benoit/Eddie Guerrero, Michelle McCool/The Undertaker, Scott Hall | Razor Ramon/Kevin Nash, Shawn Michaels/Triple H
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I've been promising @alexcong0108 on Tumblr a multi-chapter Shawter fic so here it is. I began rewatching Supernatural just for kicks and giggles and I had the idea for this.

Covered in blood, slime and small bits of viscera, Hunter grimaced as he looked down at himself. “Do they always do that?” he questioned, pulling his shirt away from his skin and wishing he’d thought to pack a change of clothing.

Looking mournfully at this now ruined cowboy hat, Shawn shook his head. “Nah, not all the time. Some of ‘em, they just drop dead and then you have to burn the evidence. Others, like demons, once they’re exorcised, they go back to where they came.” Tossing his hat aside, he pulled his shirt over his head as he opened the back seat of his truck, pulling his gear bag out. “You going to change?”

“Into what? All my stuff is at the hotel,” the other man protested, averting his gaze as the Texan stripped without an ounce of shame. “What… what’re you doing?”

Tossing aside his disgusting clothes, the Texan stepped into a clean pair of battered Levi’s. “Ok, so, second rule of hunting: keep a change of clothes handy.”

“You couldn’t have told me that _before_ we dealt with the exploding… thing we just killed?”

Head popping out of the collar of his new shirt, Shawn blinked at him. “Oh, yeah, I guess I should’ve. My bad.” Finding a box of matches and a bottle of lighter fluid as the other man sputtered, he kicked his clothes into a small pile before dousing them in the flammable liquid. “There’s a towel in the backseat you can set up to sit on but when we get back I suggest you burn those clothes,” he called over his shoulder as he struck a match and dropped it onto the soaked clothing. “You’ll never get the stench out.”

_Great. Just fucking great,_ Hunter thought to himself, finding the aforementioned towel and doing as Shawn had told him before climbing into the truck gingerly. _What the fuck did I get myself into here?_

The moment the clothes were nothing but ash, the Texan kicked dirt over the few remaining flames, extinguishing them. “Let’s get out of here,” he stated calmly as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Looking out the windshield as Shawn turned the headlights on, Hunter frowned. “What about…?” he gestured vaguely to the bits and pieces strewn across the field.

“You want to go out there and pick up every little piece so we can burn it?” At the other’s headshake, Shawn laughed a little. “Alright then. It’ll be fine.”

And that was how it all began. Mostly.

“Where the hell are we?”

Pulling up outside a rundown bar in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, Shawn tossed his new partner a grin. “This here? The guys that run this place are former hunters, no longer actively hunting but they help out others. You’ll want to make friends with them.”

Stepping out of Shawn’s truck, Hunter frowned a little as his eyes roved over the dilapidated building with a healthy dose of skepticism. “If you say so,” he muttered a little doubtfully, following the smaller man inside.

Rickety but sturdy tables dotted the inside, the floor scuffed and well worn. An old jukebox in the corner was lit up, playing old country music while a leggy blonde woman was behind the bar. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” she drawled, her southern accent thicker than honey as she tossed a towel over her shoulder and folded her arms across her ample chest. “Shawn Michaels, you pickin’ up strays now?”

“Always nice to see your pretty face, Lacey,” Shawn drawled in his own southern accent, elbowing Hunter discreetly. “This here is my new partner, Hunter. Hunter, this is Lacey Evans, USMC.”

Taking the hint, even if he was mildly affronted at being referred to as a stray, Hunter dipped his head in greeting. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

One perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, her blue eyes looking over him appraisingly. “Nice to see one of you has some manners,” she mused, moving one hand to study her nails briefly before turning her gaze to Shawn. “Best be careful, hanging out with this nasty, or you might forget them.”

Before Hunter could speak again, Shawn was strolling up to the bar with all the confidence in the world. “Nash and Razor around?” he questioned, sliding onto a bar stool with a grin for the woman, who still didn’t look impressed.

“They’re in the office, if you take my meaning.” With that vague answer, she slid a beer in front of Shawn before turning her attention to Hunter. “What’ll you have, darlin’?”

“Oh! I uh, I don’t drink.” At her mildly surprised expression, he shrugged sheepishly. “Water’s fine.”

Turning to grab a glass as she slid a beer in front of Shawn, she filled it with ice water and set it on a coaster. “Bubba Ray, darlin’, you mind telling Diesel and Razor they got company?” she called out as she moved down to the end of the bar and leaned over the counter.

“Sure thing Ms. Lacey!” a male voice called back, barely muffled by the swinging door leading to what could possibly be a kitchen of sorts.

_Bubba Ray?_ Hunter wondered as he took the stool near Shawn and sipped his ice water. Lacey went back to what she’d been doing, paying them no mind as she hummed along to the jukebox absently. “Bubba Ray?” he asked, _sotto_ voice, raising his eyebrows when the other man looked at him.

Taking a swallow of beer, Shawn nodded. “Oh yeah, there’s Bubba and his brother, D-Von. D-Von is some kind of computer genius, that man is better than the fuckin’ FBI at finding shit.”

“Should you really be cussing in front of her?”

Lacey’s loud laugh as she moved in front of them drowned out whatever it was Shawn was about to say. “Well, aren’t you just the _sweetest_ thing,” she purred, reaching across the bar and patting Hunter’s cheek fondly. “But in case you missed it, darling, I am a Marine so I can guarantee that I’ve heard and said a lot worse.”

“Yeah, don’t let the southern belle act fool you, she’s got a mouth on her,” A deep voice stated over the small squeal of a door hinge. Turning, Hunter took note of a tall, brown haired man limping a little as he made his way out of the back.

“Love you too, big daddy,” Lacey replied saucily, coming from around the bar and pushing through the heavy swinging door leading to the kitchen.

Shawn nearly choked seeing the incredulous look on Hunter’s face. “No, she ain’t his daughter or his lover, that’s just a nickname Kevin got saddled with years ago,” he muttered as he hopped off his barstool. “How ya doing Diesel?”

“Retirement sucks,” the bigger man remarked, moving slowly to the closest table before sitting heavily in the chair and stretching out his right leg with a groan. His emerald eyes landed on Hunter inquiringly, one eyebrow shooting up. “What’s with the new blood?”

“This is Hunter, we met on a job a while back and he decided to tag along.”

“Congratulations on not killing him yet,” another voice, which could only be the mysterious Razor, replied with a laugh as the man himself came into view. Swaggering over to the table where Diesel was sitting, the dark-haired Razor sat down beside the big man, leaning against the other man possessively.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Hunter managed, blinking at the two men in stupefied surprise. When Shawn had mentioned the two men were partners, he’d assumed partners like he and Shawn were. Not like how they obviously were. “And uh, he hasn’t been too bad to travel with. Yet.”

That got a laugh from the big man, an amused smirk from Razor as he popped a toothpick in his mouth, and a mild glare of annoyance from Shawn. “It’s early days yet, you’ll probably at least want to pop him one the first time he gets roaring drunk,” Kevin pointed out, still lightly chuckling as the kitchen door swung open and a heavy set guy came out, holding the door open for Lacey who was following him with a tray of food.

“Thank you, Bubba Ray, you’re such a sweetheart,” she tossed over her shoulder as the man nodded before disappearing back in the back. Setting a basket of wings in front of Shawn she moved back behind the bar without another word.

“Here, have some,” Shawn muttered, sliding the wings in front of Hunter before rising and gesturing to the other two men. “I need to have a private conversation.”

Kevin rose with a stiff groan, leaning heavily on Razor for a second as he got his bearings. “What’d you do now?” he grumbled playfully, limping towards the back followed by his partner.

“I didn’t do nothing!” the Texan protested, moving in front of Razor at the other man’s gesture, followed by the dark-haired man shutting the door firmly behind the three of them.

Hunter was quiet for several minutes, contemplating his wings and listening to Lacey humming along to the jukebox. “So, uh, how’d you end up here?” he finally asked, lifting his eyes to the blonde Southern belle behind the bar.

The woman was quiet for a long time, polishing a glass that was obviously already clean. “My husband and I, we met in the Corps,” she began just as he was beginning to wonder if he’d offended her. “We were on a road trip, our last one before our daughter was supposed to be born. He and I were camping out one night when we were attacked.” She swallowed, pursing her lips briefly before continuing. “The thing killed my husband, would’ve killed me if it weren’t for Diesel and Razor. It got away from them, not before hurting Diesel pretty badly. That’s why he’s retired, he got hurt too badly to continue.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

“Another couple of hunters, you’ll meet them if you stick around long enough, Wolverine and Eddie – “

“Wolverine?” Hunter interrupted incredulously. “What are they, the X-Men?”

Lacey eyed him as though debating on reaching over and popping him one for being rude. “His name’s actually Chris, I think he tried being a pro wrestler or something at some point. Guess that’s how he and Eddie met; I’ve never asked personally. Anywho, they tracked the thing that killed my husband down, brought me back his dog tags. Now anytime they stop by, Eddie, he brings me roses. Think he feels bad for making me cry when they brought back Alfonso’s tags.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Back on the road with Shawn a couple hours later, Hunter finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been bugging him since he’d spoken with Lacey. “What happened to her daughter? Lacey’s, I mean.”

Fingers flexing on the steering wheel, Shawn shook his head slowly. “Baby didn’t make it,” was his short response as he merged onto the interstate leading south.

Thinking back to the blonde woman, Hunter shook his head as he said a silent prayer for her, her husband, and their child. “That poor lady,” he said quietly, getting a commiserating sound from his partner in the driver’s seat. “So, where are we heading now?”

“Colorado. Kevin said a couple fellow hunters tracked down a vampire nest and they might need some help with it.”

“Vampires?! Like Count Dracula?”

Shawn laughed loudly in the small cab of the truck. “Hunts, you’ve seen one too many horror films, buddy. Nah, these vampires ain’t nothing like the ones Hollywood comes up with. Only way to kill ‘em is by cutting their heads off. Stakes through the heart just piss them the fuck off. We’ll have to find a funeral home when we get closer.”

“Why?”

“Dead man’s blood. It’s like poison to them. We’ll coat some crossbow bolts in it, hit them with ‘em, and then,” Shawn trailed off, miming a cutting motion with his finger. “The two guys we’re helping? Lacey might’ve told you about ‘em.”

“Chris and Eddie?” Hunter asked curiously. “What can you tell me about them?”

“Eddie’s fucking nuts.” Off Hunter’s look, the Texan shrugged before continuing, “Like nuttier than a squirrel turd nuts. He don’t give two fucks about going in headfirst after something that could kill him. He’s mellowed out some, thanks to Chris, but still pretty damn crazy.”

“What’s their story?”

“How the fuck would I know? Listen, I don’t know every single hunter’s story. Diesel and Razor, they’re different. I’ve known them most of my life, so naturally I know stuff about them and vice versa. Some guys, though, they don’t want to talk about how they got into the business.”

Hunter was quiet for several seconds. “Like you?”

“Yeah.” Shawn’s tone was bleak, his gaze distant as he stared at the highway stretching out ahead of them. “Like me.”


	2. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn and Hunter discuss pre-and-post hunt rituals, Chris and Eddie indulge in their own and the four of them team together to take out a nest of vampires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good at action scenes, okay? So just bear with me on this chapter.

_“So, one of the more important things about hunting you’ll need to figure out is a pre-and-post hunt ritual.”_

_More than a little confused, Hunter looked at Shawn curiously. “Like some kind of protection thing?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows when the other man shook his head._

_“Nah, more like an in case of death type thing. Some guys, before a hunt, they might go have a drink, pick up a girl or a guy for the night.” Stretching out on the bed he’d claimed, the Texan shrugged at the other’s expression. “Others, they’ll prep their weapons, research, that kind of thing. Varies from person to person, you know, personal preference. Most choose option one as their post job thing, the adrenaline, you know.”_

_Mulling over this newest tidbit of information, Hunter shrugged. Seemed reasonable enough to him. “Okay, so what do you normally do? Before and after?”_

_“No offense, Hunts, but that’s a little more personal than I’m comfortable sharing with you right now.”_

Holding the door of the church Eddie had finally decided on, Chris allowed his husband to walk in first before following behind him. Feeling oddly bereft as he caught sight of his bare ring finger, he had to remind himself that this little ritual of theirs often involved going into churches that might’ve condemned them to hell for their relationship. The moment they were back in the relative privacy of their room, they’d slide the rings back on each other, but that was later.

He’d once questioned the Latino on why he insisted on going to a church to pray the night before a big hunt. God would hear them anywhere, after all. So why did it have to be a church? Eddie had just shrugged, saying he liked going because it allowed him to feel closer to God. After their mission to go after the thing that had killed Lacey’s husband, watching her fall to the ground of the roadhouse crying when they brought back her husband’s tags, he’d never questioned it again. That could be him one day, after all, broken and devastated by the loss of the man who was both his sin and salvation.

Sliding into the pew next to his husband, watching from the corner of his eye as the Latino pulled out a well-loved rosary and began to pray, he breathed in the faint scent of beeswax and incense that permeated the air. Even within the sanctified walls of this holy place, Chris could never allow his guard to drop completely. Eddie jokingly called him paranoid, but considering how often that paranoia saved their asses? He’d just as soon keep it, thank you very much. Relaxing minutely as the softly spoken Spanish coming from the other man washed over him, he gazed around the church curiously.

It was one of the nicer ones they’d found in their travels, an almost life-sized replica of the Blessed Virgin holding the Christ child standing on a raised platform behind the altar. One hand was raised in silent blessing, her smile soft and relaxed. The stained-glass windows portrayed St. Christopher, the patron saint of this church, along side Christ after his ascension into Heaven. A gentle elbow in his side made him blink, turning his head briefly to catch his husband’s rather expectant look.

Bowing his head with a little half smile thrown at the Latino, he allowed his guard to drop. This was part of the ritual too, one of them always on guard for the other. Unlike Eddie, who always prayed in one of his native tongues’ half under his breath, Chris preferred to pray silently. _Keep him safe. I don’t care about me, but please God, if you’re listening, just keep him safe for me,_ he silently pleaded first. His Spanish was still rudimentary at best, even after over a decade together, but he could almost guarantee part of his husband’s prayer had been the reverse. 

Inhaling deeply, he paused before continuing, _Lord, give us the strength tomorrow to rid the world You created of these creatures who would destroy Your creation. Allow us to live and fight another day in Your name. For You have said that I will require the life of any man or beast by whose hand your lifeblood is shed. I will demand an accounting from anyone who takes the life of his fellow man. For whoever shed man’s blood, by man his blood will be shed. I will fear no evil, for thou art with me always. Amen._

Making the sign of the cross, he lifted his head and rose in time with the man beside him. Stepping out of the pew, he stood to one side to allow Eddie out and followed seconds later to another, smaller altar at the back of the church where dozens of candles flickered in glass votives. Together, they lit candles for all the people they’d saved, the ones they couldn’t save and the ones they had yet to. One last sign of the cross, and they left just as unobtrusively as they came but not before sliding two hundred-dollar bills into the donation box.

It was as they were heading back to the car that Eddie broke the silence. “Michaels is going to be helping us out tomorrow,” he stated calmly, pausing long enough to fall into step side by side. “Apparently he’s got some new guy with him.”

With an annoyed grunt, Chris shook his head. “Maybe we need to go back and pray some more,” he muttered, smiling when his husband laughed loudly in the almost empty parking lot. “Hope this new guy’s prepared, we can’t afford to babysit him.”

The Latino made an agreeing hum as they separated at the front bumper of his Trans Am, taking the driver’s side and while Chris took the passenger side. Sliding in together, he shook his head. “He’d better be, or I’ll let you go all Wolverine on both their asses.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“So, where are we meeting these guys?” Hunter questioned as they pulled into some small town in Colorado he hadn’t quite caught the name of. They’d driven through the night, taking turns sleeping in the backseat of the truck but he was more than ready to get out and stretch his legs. Even though the truck was a double cab, fitting all six foot four inches of himself in it did not make for the most refreshing or comfortable night’s sleep.

“Some diner, Chris said I’d know it when I – aha!” Jerking the wheel as he nearly missed the turn, he ignored the angry honk behind him with an easy nonchalance. Obviously a popular spot, it took them a moment to find a parking space.

Taking note of all the cars, Hunter raised his eyebrows in concern. “Isn’t this place a little… packed?” he finally ventured as Shawn killed the engine.

Undoing his seatbelt, Shawn paused and looked at his partner. “That’s kind of the point, less chance of being overheard. With so many people talking, it’ll drown out what we’re talking about, see?”

Oh. Well, that did make sense. Undoing his own seatbelt, he hopped out the truck with a grateful sigh, stretching to his full height for the first time in what felt like weeks. “Are they even here yet?”

Spying the dark blue Trans Am he knew to be Eddie’s, the Texan nodded. “Yep,” he agreed as he led the way to the entrance of the diner. Holding the door open behind him for Hunter, he waved off the harried looking hostess as he pointed in the direction of the other two hunter’s they were meeting. She breathed a visible sigh of relief, gesturing them on as she went about her duties. “They’re over there.”

Hunter didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t what he saw. The two men sitting beside one another in a corner booth looked as though they couldn’t be more opposite. The Latino waved at them with an easy, friendly grin while the other just looked like he was expecting a fight to break out at any second. “Are you sure that’s them?” he whispered, making Shawn toss an amused look over his shoulder at him.

“Oh yeah, that’s them alright,” the Texan agreed, as they moved past people crowded at the counter seats. Finally reaching their destination, he slid in the opposite side first, allowing Hunter to have the outside. “Hey guys!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Standing outside the cave they’d tracked the vampire nest to a few hours later, Chris was patiently coating crossbow bolts in fresh dead man’s blood when Hunter approached him cautiously. “What.”

“Don’t we need like… holy water? Crosses? Garlic?”

Casting a sidelong glance at the taller man, he smirked a little. “You’re drinking some right now,” he pointed out, gesturing to the bottle of water in Hunter’s hand. “Not that it’ll help against vampires. Same with garlic and crosses. That’s all Hollywood.”

Pausing with the bottle lifted halfway to his mouth, Hunter blinked at the half-drunk, innocuous looking liquid. “You’re serious?” he questioned faintly, jaw dropping open when the other man nodded. “How the -?”

“I’m an ordained minister.” When Hunter looked even more surprised, Chris shrugged a little self-consciously. “Not that you really need to be one to make holy water, any idiot with a rosary and the right words can do it.”

“You and Eddie… are married… right?”

“What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing! I mean, I’m not homophobic or anything, just… how does that work with you being an ordained minister?”

Chris shook his head in silent amusement. “ _Ma foi en Dieu est inébranlable, mais mon mari est à la fois le péché et le salut_. One has nothing to do with the other,” he remarked as he picked up the crossbow sitting beside him and began loading it. “Remember, these things, they look human because they once were. Do **not** hesitate because they will not. And remember: if you cause my husband to get hurt in _any_ way, I will end you myself.”

A little taken aback at the sudden glare being leveled on him, Hunter nodded robotically. “I swear, I won’t let any of you down. I can do this.”

“Chris.”

They both looked at the same time as Eddie called the other man’s name. With one final pointed glare at Hunter, Chris moved over to the Latino and the two walked a few feet away to obviously have a private moment. Averting his gaze as he felt like an intruder, he instead moved over towards Shawn, who was running a whetstone over a couple of wicked looking machetes. “I think I upset Chris,” he stated lowly, making the Texan look up and over at the other two men briefly.

“You ever been married, Hunter?” Shawn questioned abruptly, turning his gaze back to the machete in his hands.

“Came close, but it didn’t work out, why?”

“I’ve never known those two separately, never. I knew Diesel and Razor before they became what they are, but those two men over there?” He gestured with a small head jerk. “They’re as integral to one another as being able to breathe. So yeah, they’re both very protective of one another. You haven’t been doing this as long as me, or either of them, so naturally they’re going to have their doubts. Handle yourself the way you did on our first job? They’ll accept you. Fuck it up? Well, just remember the first rule I taught you: don’t get yourself or anyone else killed.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his husband who didn’t look the slightest bit repentant. “What’s wrong with you, _querido_? You’re not usually like this.”

“What’s wrong with me? I’m supposed to trust some green ass hunter with your life and you’re asking me what’s wrong?” The Latino’s hands on his face stopped him suddenly, his eyes meeting the brown of his husband immediately.

“You’re not trusting him with anything except doing the job,” Eddie reminded him pointedly, thumbs brushing over Chris’ cheekbones. “There are only two people in this world I trust: you and God. You are not going to let anything happen to me. I know that and you know that.”

Benoit visibly struggled with his words for a minute. “I do know that,” he finally settled on saying, his grip on his crossbow tensing and relaxing. “I just don’t want either of us distracted because he screws up and – “

“None of that.” The Latino’s voice was firm, his tone not allowing for an argument. “Take a breath and relax, put all your trust in yourself, me and God.”

Closing his eyes, Chris nodded and did as he was bid, inhaling deeply, and taking stock of everything around him. The heavy scent of pine, the sound of birds calling to each other, Eddie’s hands on his face, and the darkness behind his lids. Exhaling, he opened his eyes and managed a smile for his husband. “I’m okay now.”

“You sure?”

When Chris nodded, the Latino leaned forward and kissed him softly, their mouths moving together easily. “ _Je t’aime, mon mari,”_ Benoit whispered when the kiss broke.

“ _Te queiro tambien, mi marido.”_ Another small kiss. “Come on, let’s go take care of this and get back to our room. I have some plans for you.”

Laughing lightly as he led Eddie back to the other hunter’s waiting on them, he shook his head fondly as he moved the crossbow to his shoulder. “You always have plans.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Absolutely not.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“So, we all clear on the plan?” Shawn asked as he passed one of the sharpened machetes to Hunter, looking around at their ragtag group. Eddie had a wicked looking sword, swinging it around with a practiced ease while Chris had his crossbow and a machete at his hip. When they all nodded the affirmative, he turned on a heavy-duty flashlight and led them into the darkness.

Hunter felt his eyes go impossibly wide as he looked around at the snoring vampires all around. _Jesus, Chris wasn’t kidding when he said they still looked human,_ he thought to himself, forcing himself to recall that these things had been killing people. They were halfway through clearing the nest, covered in splashes of blood when one of them woke. He and the vampire froze, staring at each other in shock before the sound of Chris’ crossbow went off, hitting the thing in head, the bloodied tip sticking out of its forehead. Pulling himself together, he automatically swung the machete before the thing dropped and promptly cut the head off.

When Shawn finally declared them all dead, he almost wept with relief. Shaky and feeling like he was two seconds from throwing up, he allowed the other three men to go ahead of him as he tried to pull himself together. “You guys are sure these were vamps?” he asked shakily, causing the others to pause and turn to look at him.

Eddie moved before the others could, finding the head of one and picking it up. Pulling back the upper lip, he pressed along the gum and Hunter nearly jumped when a fang popped out. “Proof enough for you, _ese_?” the Latino questioned drily, tossing the head aside when the other man nodded weakly. “Chris and I, we’ll get a pyre set up. You might want to get him out of here Shawn, he looks like he’s two seconds away from tossing his cookies.”

The second Hunter hit fresh air, he took two steps off to one side and promptly puked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris references Genesis 9 verses 5 and 6 in his prayer, as well as part of Psalm 23, or as it's more commonly called, the Lord's prayer. I made him both sarcastic and an ordained minister just because I could. If you don't like that, I got two words for ya.
> 
> While this is primarily a Shawter fic, we will see other couples throughout as often they will team with other hunters. Chris and Eddie will make the most appearances because I love those guys and it's fun to make Chris sarcastic for once.
> 
> Ma foi en Dieu est inébranlable, mais mon mari est à la fois le péché et le salut - My faith in God is unwavering, but my husband is both sin and salvation


	3. Meetings

_Sitting in the dark corner of a seedy dive bar, Hunter picked up the seemingly perfect copy of an FBI identification card curiously. “What happens if someone asks to call your supervisor while you’re impersonating an agent?” he questioned, waving it in front of the man across from him._

_Shawn’s laugh was rough from cigarette smoke and the beer he’d been drinking from not five minutes ago. “There’s a guy that runs a kind of call center for hunters. He’s got a number for everything: CIA, NSA, FBI. They’re all labeled, so he knows who to impersonate and when. His wife helps out too.”_

_“Isn’t that kind of… illegal?”_

_“Technically, yes. But so is hustling pool, credit card fraud and the like.”_

_“There isn’t any kind of better way to do these things?”_

_“Like what, Hunts? The government either doesn’t know about the things that actually go bump in the night or don’t care. Can’t exactly hold down a steady job when you’re going around saving people and hunting things. We do what we can.”_

_Hunter was quiet as he absorbed Shawn’s words. “I have a pretty big trust fund, that should keep us going for a while.”_

_Coughing and sputtering as he nearly choked, Shawn put down his beer hurriedly. “Us? What do you mean, us?”_

_“I want to learn how to do this. That… thing, whatever it was you saved me from? There’s more out there, right?”_

_“Yes but- “_

_“But what? I can shoot a gun, I’m strong and in good shape. I can watch your back.”_

_“It’s not an easy life.”_

_“Oh, because going back to my normal life is an option? Knowing there’s things out there that are killing people?” Seeing the other man’s resolve beginning to crumble, he continued. “Look, I can do this! I want to help.”_

_Taking a drag off his cigarette, Shawn studied him for a long minute. “Just how big of a trust fund are we talking?”_

_Hunter smiled._

“Don’t worry, puking after your first human looking thing is normal,” Shawn assured, hopping up on the tailgate of his truck alongside Hunter and passing him a fresh bottle of water. They watched in silence as Chris and Eddie moved seemingly in tandem as they finished building up a pyre to burn the bodies of the vampires they’d just killed.

Rinsing and spitting with a mouthful of water, Hunter nodded weakly. “We won’t run into a whole lot like that right?”

The Texan was quiet for a second, eyes focused in the distance on nothing at all. “Vampires are practically extinct at this point, running into a nest like this is like finding a needle in a haystack. Werewolves are human looking too, until the change.”

“I’m sorry, werewolves? Next thing you know you’re going to tell me zombies are real.” A beat. “Wait. Are they?”

“If they are, I haven’t run into any and don’t know anyone that has,” Shawn remarked, picking at a worn spot on his jeans. “But yeah, werewolves are a thing. That’s at least one thing Hollywood got right; silver bullets are the only thing that takes them out. Silver anything really, be it a bullet or a knife.”

Lapsing into silence, Hunter watched as the other men loaded the bodies up, dousing them in lighter fluid before striking a match and torching them. “He’s really an ordained minister?” he questioned as Chris stood off to one side, hands clasped firmly in front of him and bowed his head.

“Sure is. That’s one way they make money as they travel around hunting stuff. He marries anyone who has the cash and the license. He’s even known to preside over the funerals of any victims that they couldn’t save in time.”

“Why’s he praying for some vampires though?”

“Because they were once human.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Eddie stepped up beside his husband just as Chris lifted his head, making the sign of the cross in silent benediction. “New guy didn’t do too bad,” he remarked softly, catching the other man’s hand in his as they watched the flickering flames light up the darkness of the night.

“Handled it better than most,” Chris agreed, tightening his grip on his husband’s hand briefly before relaxing. “Think Michaels has a thing for him.”

Casting a glance at the other two men sitting on the tailgate of Shawn’s truck, Eddie made an agreeing noise in his throat. “Can’t blame him, _ciertamente no está mal mirar_.” Off his husband’s look, the Latino smiled, leaning into the other man subtly. “Unfortunately for him, I much prefer more familiar sights.”

Tilting his head enough so they rested against one another, the Canadian sighed contentedly. The job was done, he and Eddie were both still alive and with unwounded and they could take their time heading to Denver for a wedding he’d been contracted to do. “Surprised you’re not being all ‘I told you so’.”

The Latino made a dismissive sound in his throat. “I had my doubts about him too,” he remarked, lifting his left shoulder in a half shrug. “But my faith in you is like our faith in God: never wavering, always enduring. I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to me anymore than I’d let something happen to you.”

“I don’t ever want to lose you,” Chris told him softly, just barely audible over the crackling of wood and bone.

“Guess we need to make sure I don’t get lost then.” Eddie smiled a little at the amused snort from his husband. A moments silence passed between them as they stared at the flames engulfing the bodies. “ _Te amo mi marido.”_

_“Je t’aime aussi, mon mari.”_

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Watching the two hunters he and Shawn had teamed up with, Hunter felt a pang of envy go through him at the ease with which the two leaned against one another in a silent show of support. Whatever they were saying wasn’t audible from this distance, but he could see their lips moving in the light of the fire. “They’ve been together a long time, haven’t they?”

“Something like thirteen years, I believe. Maybe longer. It’s hard not to envy them, but at the same time, I’d hate to be in their shoes.”

“Why?”

“Getting that deeply attached to someone in this business, it’s got pros and cons. On one hand, you know they’ll have your back no matter what.” Shawn sighed heavily, scratching at the day-old scruff growing in along his chin and cheeks. “But there’s still the risk that one of you gets distracted trying to save the other and it ends up with the both of you dead. Or worse, only one of you and the other is left to just… carry on.”

Something in Shawn’s tone made Hunter tear his eyes away from the other two men across the clearing and look at him curiously. The Texan sounded as if he was speaking from deep, personal experience and he almost opened his mouth to ask but the look in the other man’s eyes was enough to deter him. For now.

When the flames were extinguished a couple hours later, it was nearing late afternoon. “So, where you guys heading next?” Shawn questioned as they covered their tracks best they could. Hunter remained sitting on the truck, clearly still a little out of it but coming around.

“Chris has a wedding to officiate up by Denver in a couple days, so we’ll be heading north. You?” Eddie queried as they finished, coming to a stop beside his car.

“Eh, truck needs some parts so gonna go see ‘Taker. After that, we’ll see I guess.” He tossed a look over his shoulder at his traveling companion. “What do you think of him?”

“This his first-time hunting something human looking?” At the Texan’s nod, Chris nodded as he slammed the trunk of the Trans Am shut. “He wasn’t terrible.”

“High praise, coming from him,” the Latino joked, jerking his head at his husband, who just rolled his eyes and got into the driver’s seat. Opening the passenger side door, he slid inside with a small wave. “Be seeing you, Shawn.”

“Stay safe you guys,” Shawn replied, stepping back as the car roared to life and the two men drove away. Watching the car disappear down the dirt road, he headed back to his truck where Hunter was waiting.

“Where are we heading?” Hunter asked as his partner got into the passenger seat, leaning it back some before doing up his seat belt.

“Texas, Houston area specifically. Gotta get some parts replaced on Ol’ Faithful here,” the other man replied, patting the dash of his truck fondly as he settled back and moved his ever-present cowboy hat over his eyes. “Let’s roll.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Pulling into a junkyard eerily dubbed ‘The Boneyard’, Hunter looked around curiously. Two giant dogs lifted their heads as the truck sputtered and finally stalled out just before a modest looking two-story ranch house. “Be prepared to get wet,” Shawn told him as he put the vehicle in park and yanked the keys from the ignition before hopping out.

_What?_ He wondered, stepping out of the truck himself and looking up at the clear blue sky. Shrugging it off, he followed his partner up the steps of the house, eyeing the dogs warily. They made no move to attack or even to get petted, simply watching the both of them. About to question it, the door suddenly opened, and a bucket of water was tossed at them. Sputtering, he shoved his now soaked hair from his face and blinked at the blonde woman standing in the doorway.

“Come on in, I’ll get you a towel.”

Looking at Shawn, who just gave him a ‘told you’ look, he reluctantly stepped inside behind the other man. The woman who’d doused them with water came back a second later with a couple of towels which she passed to them.

“Hey Michelle,” Shawn greeted as he wiped his face and patted at his soaked shirt half-heartedly. “How’s things?”

The woman – Michelle- narrowed her eyes at him. “I swear to God, Shawn Michaels, if you came to bring my husband out of retirement, I will string you up by your balls.”

“We uh, we actually just came for parts,” Hunter offered, resisting the urge to take an involuntary step back as her piercing gaze focused on him. “Ma’am.”

Flicking her gaze back to Shawn, who confirmed his words with a rapid nod, she turned on her heel. “Come on, he was on the phone with Waltman a minute ago. Should be about done by now,” she tossed over her shoulder, her heeled boots tapping on the wooden floor.

“She don’t like you, does she?”

Shawn swallowed a laugh as they followed her through the house. “Oh, cause of the water thing? Nah, it’s nothing personal. It was just holy water, making sure we’re not possessed,” he whispered, “Mark finally stopped hunting a couple years back and the last thing she wants is him going back out into it. They’ve got a little girl, about seven? Eight?, and she wants to make sure he’s around for her.”

Sounded reasonable to Hunter. Before he could say the thought aloud, Michelle was leading them into a large room with wall to wall bookcases. Every single one was crammed full to bursting, books in all kinds of languages including some he had trouble recognizing. An oversized desk with half a dozen different phones lined up on it sat catty-corner to one side where a man that made him feel tiny sat behind it.

“Fucking Waltman,” the man – Mark? – muttered, pushing back from the desk and rising with a small, pained groan. Green eyes landed on him first, one reddish eyebrow raising before they slid over to Shawn. “New partner?”

“Yep. This is Hunter, Hunter, this is Mark, aka The Undertaker. And of course, you’ve met his lovely wife, Michelle.”

“Stop kissing ass, Michaels,” Michelle muttered, coming forward brushing a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “He needs some parts.”

“You mean to tell me that truck of yours is still on the road?” Mark questioned, a rough chuckle escaping him at Shawn’s almost comical shrug as he returned his wife’s kiss and stepped out from behind the desk. “You got the phones, babe?”

“Course.”

“It was nice meeting you, ma’am,” Hunter offered to Michelle, who just raised her eyebrows at him before dipping her head in a small nod. Mark looked at him impassively for a minute before moving past them, gesturing over his shoulder with one hand that they should follow him. Shawn flashed him a subtle thumbs up as they fell into line behind the bigger man.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sourcing the parts took most of the day, and it would be at least another before they would be back on the road. “You haven’t had a partner since Marty, what happened?” Mark questioned, elbows deep in the engine compartment of Shawn’s truck.

The mention of his previous partner made Shawn grimace, grateful to Michelle for having roped Hunter into helping her in the kitchen. “Nothing happened. I saved Hunter from a demon, we talked, and he decided to give this a try.”

“Uh huh.”

Looking back towards the house, the Texan shook his head. “It’s not like that between us. I don’t know if I’d want to go through that again.” His mind flashed briefly to how Chris and Eddie had been during their hunt a few days prior, so obviously, painfully together it almost hurt to look at them. “He’s not bad to look at though.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I prefer my eye-candy to be of the feminine variety,” the other man rumbled as he straightened up with a low groan. “You, of all people, should know that.”


End file.
